by David Peters
Again something passed in front of him with blinding speed. He could see the outline all too briefly as it passed. It was large. Two long arms flashed out of the darkness and plunged razor sharp talons through his shoulders and into the wall behind him. A second pair flashed out and sunk the claws into his legs. Dylan let out a scream of pain as he was violently ripped from his bindings, lifted off the ground and slammed against the wall. Through the inky darkness he could see the cluttered ground at least fifteen feet below him. The owner of the arms leaned in close to his face. The Queen Corrupted smelled of death and decay and was surrounded with an aura of pure hatred. She was growing a second set of jet black eyes under the first pair. Her nose had sunken into her mottled face and left nothing more than two breathing holes. She opened her mouth and let out a long hiss into his face. Her viciously sharp teeth glinted in what little light there was in the room. He could see her pointed tongue twitch in her mouth. She leaned in close and licked the side of his face. Dylan tried to turn away from the aberration but was frozen in horror. There was a trailing feeling of numbness down his cheek where there vile creature’s saliva had stuck to his face.
He felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead as he stared into the face of evil. The Queen leaned in until their faces were touching. She spoke with a voice like sandpaper, the words sending a cold chill through Dylan as he felt them more than he heard them, “I’m coming for you. You have taken what was rightfully mine. I am coming for you, and for everyone else. You are already mine, you just won’t admit it.”
Dylan sat up with a yell. He was in his own bed and bathed in sweat. It took several moments for the feeling of dread to fade. The early morning sun was drifting in through the curtains and the smell of breakfast had made its way up the stairs to his room. Rolling out of bed he put on the same clothes he was wearing the night before. They still carried the smell of burnt gunpowder and smoke. For some strange reason there was a comfort that came with that smell.
He found Erica cooking eggs at the stove and humming a quiet song, “Morning Princess, how did you sleep?” Dylan kissed the top of her head as he reached for his favorite cup.
“I slept well, thanks. Doc knocked on the door early this morning and said Mom will be moving to our cabin this afternoon.” She reached up to the cupboard and pulled out another plate for Dylan.
He watched as she fixed up his plate. He felt so much like her father that it was hard to believe he hadn’t been doing it his whole life. He liked seeing how much she moved like Niccole now. He could also see she wasn’t a child as much as they liked to think she was. She moved and spoke like an older woman would. He thought to himself for a minute and came to the conclusion that life was forcing changes on everyone in Paradise Falls.
Erica brought the plates over and sat down in her normal chair, “It will be nice to have her home. Did Doc say how the other two are doing?”
“He said they are pretty much the same as Niccole, except they don’t know anyone here but him and Jonathan. I have talked to Jonathan on several occasions now and he is really hitting it off when one of them. Jonathan’s cabin has that small loft bedroom but he won’t be able to deal with those stairs for some time. That will leave him on a foldaway and he is going to let the sisters have the loft. It will be good for him to have someone that can nurse him for a while. He has some seriously tough days ahead of him.”
Erica nodded silently as she absently moved her breakfast around her plate.
“I need to get over and talk with Travis this morning,” Dylan said out loud to himself, “I need to get my head around what he is working on with those new blue powder grenades.”
“Is it all right if I tag along? I need to talk with him about some welding and metal work we need done on the center guard tower. Cap-Cap needed the work done sooner rather than later. His words, not mine.”
Dylan gave her a sly smile, “Of course you’re welcome to come along.” Then he continued in a mocking voice, “There couldn’t possibly be any other reason you would want to drop in on poor, lonely Travis.”
Erica blushed and turned her face away knowing Dylan had seen through her so easily.
--9--
Dylan stood at the small wooden workbench as Travis explained how the new smoke grenades worked. There were several of the soup can shaped canisters with their fuses unscrewed arranged on the top of the bench and a small plastic pail of the blue powder.
Travis held up one of the cans so Dylan could see inside, “So you can see that there is actually quite a bit of room where it threads in. So the other day Whitey and I were looking at the bucket of blue powder that Doc had cooked up. Whitey made the comment that it looked like blue Potassium Chlorate.” He paused for a second when he saw that Dylan wasn’t following him.
“Sorry dude, Potassium Chlorate is part of what makes a smoke grenade well, a smoke grenade. It looks like this stuff,” He pointed to the container of blue powder, “only it’s white. Anyway, we started talking and one thing led to another and we were experimenting with a way to get a cloud of the blue smoke. It worked.” Travis enunciated the last comment with a broad grin.
Dylan turned the empty grenade cylinder several times as he looked it over then put it back on the work bench, “Travis my friend, you are truly amazing. You scare the crap out of me but you are amazing. I need to make sure you guys stay away from the big stuff they brought in.” Dylan said. He was alluding to the nuclear backpacks that the Guard had brought with them. It was the one kiloton dirty little secret in Paradise Falls.
“Funny you would mention that Dad.” Erica said with a smile. She blushed when she met Travis’ eyes. “Cap-Cap needs a mount made for their Ma Deuce. He wants to mount it in the tower but it needs to be able to swing around in an arc,” she pantomimed shooting a large weapon and swinging it around. “It has to be an exterior mount and the tripod they brought just won’t fly.” She pulled out a scrap of paper with a small drawing, “Basically he wants to make sure it can be hard mounted to the tower but swung around in a full two hundred and eighty degree range but still be rigid throughout.” She noticeably leaned towards Travis as he looked over the small piece of paper she was holding. “It needs to be pretty sturdy too, like really sturdy.”
Dylan looked baffled, “’Ma Deuce’? Hard mounted? Do I know you?”
Erica looked at Travis and rolled her eyes; he smiled back and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry Dad. Cap-Cap calls their heavy machine gun a ‘Ma Deuce’, guess it is slang for M-2? As far as the ‘hard mounted’ I guess the thing kicks like a horse so he wants to make sure it doesn’t break off the tower. The tripod they have for it is too big to sit anywhere in the tower itself and it isn’t designed to be used while standing so they need something that will mount on the outside wall.”
“Of course. How could I not know that?” Dylan stepped out of the workshop and watched through the large open roll door as Erica and Travis worked out the details of what she needed. He smiled as he listened in on the conversation. Both of the teens were trying to sound as old and sophisticated as they could.
Travis ran his free hand through his long hair as he looked at the design, “So this is kind of like the mount they have for the door gun of a helicopter accept this part here won’t be fixed.” He pointed to something on the paper.
Erica leaned in closer and nodded, “Ya, that is pretty much what Cap-Cap said, something about the tower was kind of like air support.”
Travis put the sketch on the workbench and rested his hand on his small goatee. As he thought about it he started nodding his head and pulled some metal bracing off the wall, “Oh ya, this will be cake. Can you get me the fitting the gun will attach with?” He pointed to the sketch and indicated the part he was talking about.
“Sure! You really think you can get that done by this afternoon?”
“For you Erica? Anything.” For the first time ever Dylan saw Travis blush and give a very bashful smile to the girl.
Erica stammered then ga
ined her composure, “Thanks Travis. It would mean a lot to me.”
Dylan and Erica walked towards Docs office, both of them in quiet contemplation. Dylan finally broke the silence, “Love is a beautiful weed.”
“A weed? That’s real romantic Dad.”
He chuckled as he put his arm around her, “It never grows when you try and force it to, only where it wants to. And once it sprouts its nearly impossible to kill. Travis is good people Erica. Don’t let anyone ever tell you different.”
Erica blushed yet again but remained silent. She finally spoke up when they reached the tents in the center of town, “I need to go get that part from Cap-Cap and tell him he should be able to set it up this evening, I’ll see you later Dad.” She hugged him and walked off to find the captain. He let out a happy sigh and turned back towards the Doc’s office.
--10--
In the cabin with the blue door Dylan sat quietly on a small wooden chair next to the bed. Niccole slept peacefully with the covers pulled up over her shoulders. As he ran his fingers through her hair she smiled in her sleep. He absently thought about the plan they had worked out for the attack everyone knew had to be coming. His rifle was leaning against the nightstand to his left and his belt and pockets were filled with the extra rounds he hoped he wouldn’t need. He looked down at his watch and decided it was time to go. Niccole smiled in her sleep as he kissed her forehead. He pulled his hat on tight and slung the rifle over his back. With one more look at Niccole he headed for the front door.
He walked as quietly as he could to his setup point under the west wall. There were several small groups of people huddled together talking only in whispers. All of them were out of sight behind buildings or sheds with their weapons in hand or leaning against a wall next to them. Many of them fidgeted nervously as they waited. Even the guards usually posted on the main defensive wall where hiding in order to make it look that much more vulnerable. The hope was to get the Corrupted to commit the bulk of their Hunters early so they could be wiped out by their heavy weapons. If the walls looked undefended then they could attack in silence and simply scale the walls.
He found Whitey sitting statue still leaning against a wall support and just barely peeking over the lip of the wall. Dylan stayed low and knelt down beside him, “What’s the word Whitey?”
Without turning away from the field in front of him he whispered to Dylan, “I’ve seen a few Hunters darting around out there just beyond the scrub line. They blend into the background when they aren’t moving, even with the goggles. They’re out there, but they ain’t takin’ the bait.”
“They should have attacked by now. I don’t understand it. We couldn’t look any more ready for the taking to these damn things. The walls are vacant. They should be thinking they can just walk right in and take us.”
Whitey was silent for a moment than turned to Dylan, “Honestly? I think they noticed that no one is on the wall. Instead of it looking like we were easy fodder they know something is up. It doesn’t feel right for them and they don’t know why. Either way, I think they’re spooked. Bad call on my part Boss. I don’t think they’re comin’ in tonight.”
Dylan had gone with the plan because it had sounded solid. They had put their remaining anti-personnel mines in the moat in front of the East wall and they had manufactured nearly two dozen of the anti-Corrupted grenades to throw into the expected masses. He had figured the battle would be over almost before it started accept the damn Corrupted weren’t starting it. Dylan stood watch for another hour with Whitey but it seemed apparent that they would not be attacking tonight. Daylight was just over an hour away and they wouldn’t want to clean up their dead in daylight. In the back of Dylan’s mind an idea that he had been working on suddenly clicked into place. A smile flashed across his face when the simplicity of it all hit him.
“I’m heading to bed Whitey. I’m thinking you’re right, they aren’t attacking tonight. Pass the word that all but the regular guard detail should head to bed. Make sure the guards know they should stay out of sight the rest of the night just to make sure they don’t attack. They will be here tomorrow night just after dusk. Bet you a cheeseburger with everything on that.”
“Oh man, I would kill for one of those right now. Why did you do that?” Whitey leaned against in the inside of the wall and held his stomach in mock pain.
--11--
Dylan crawled out of bed late the next morning. He could smell breakfast cooking and hear familiar laughter coming from downstairs. He looked to his left and found Niccole was not in bed. He dressed quickly and headed downstairs.
“Morning sleepy-head,” Niccole looked tired but better than he could ever have imagined as she walked across the small living room in her bathrobe with a cup of coffee for him. She put his coffee on the fireplace mantel and wrapped her good arm around him in a tight hug. “Thank you for getting me.” She gave him a long and deep kiss. Her eyes still had dark circles under them but Doc said she would be fine if she kept eating well.
He returned the kiss and was lost in the moment when he heard Erica from the kitchen, “Get a room guys, sheesh.”
Niccole broke away in embarrassment, “Sorry, a little taken over by the moment.”
“How are you feeling? How is the arm?” Dylan examined the brace Doc had fashioned for her. The sling had been made from a kitchen apron so it was mint green with a white flower pattern.
Niccole flexed her fingers as she looked at her arm, “It’s sore but it is still attached. That Hunter threw me like a rag doll when I clubbed it. I remember seeing the tree coming at me pretty fast. My arm took most of the blow. I remember bits and pieces from the hive.”
Niccole told him what she could remember about Stripes and Shade, “Sorry so much of the story is out of place, bits and pieces of it come to me now and again. The whole thing feels like it was a dream. Doc says that is due to the drug they shot me up with.”
“Man I hope we don’t start seeing flying Corrupted around here.”
“You know Dylan, I got the feeling they can’t fly really far. Even if they could, the things are so damn loud we could hear them a mile away.”
They took their seats around the small dining room table to eat, “So I need to float an idea past Cap-Cap. I had a slight epiphany last night. I think I know how we can drastically cut back on the amount of attacks against us. Maybe stop them all together for quite some time. I just need a little of Cap-Cap’s expertise on how to make it happen.”
Dylan walked through his plan. He knew he had a winner when the smiles grew across both the ladies’ faces.
--12--
Cap-Cap nodded his agreement as Dylan went through his entire idea. They were sitting on opposite sides of a wooden picnic table with their military rations. Cap-Cap pointed at Dylan with his fork to bring the point home, “I think you are exactly right. That goes well with what Whitey reported about the Hunters coming in and out of view. They were spooked because they couldn’t see any guards. They could tell something was up because something was different and they didn’t like it. They didn’t like the unknown aspect of it when we have so soundly beaten them in the past.” He nodded as he thought about it.
Dylan finished a bite of not-so-yellow macaroni and cheese, “So tonight we do the normal rotation with everyone on call in their cabins ready to go. Leave everything else in place.”
“So why don’t we just keep doing that? It will buy us a few more days if they think something is wrong, right?”
“Possibly, I thought about it when they didn’t attack but it’s bad enough how unpredictable they can be. At least this way we know when and where the attack is coming. It wouldn’t surprise me if they changed up altogether and started attacking in the early morning.”
Cap-Cap nodded his agreement, “Makes sense. My experience is generally on the attack side, we didn’t spend a whole hell of a lot of time sitting around waiting for them to make a move. Not exactly in our doctrine if you get my drift. Not that I agreed with it mind
you.”
“Well that ‘sitting around waiting’ is generally what we call living from day to day around here and not to sound too callus but the whole leading with a big stick act didn’t seem to pan out too well.”
“I’m learning Dylan. Takes time to drop the old ways you know.”
Both men ate quietly for several uncomfortable minutes. Cap-Cap finally broke the silence, “Anyway, with that said I think it’s a pretty solid plan.”
“What do you think about my other idea? How easy would that be to pull off? Is it even possible for you to do that and if so how do we make it happen? How do we set it up? Will your equipment work?”
“It’s solid for sure. It will take some research and planning but it’s more than possible and we actually have the people and talent to pull it off. We have the people and skills tailor made to pull it off. Tell you what, let’s survive tonight and then work on saving the world tomorrow morning?”